The Violin's Treble
by The Fandom Equestrian
Summary: Vanya Hargreeves didn't just meet Leonard as they're trying to save the world. They've been dating for over a year now, and he moved into her apartment. But then he changed, and no one knows what goes on behind closed doors in that apartment. She holds onto the hope that someone will see, but as Leonard loves to remind her, no one ever sees her.
1. Someone's In The Apartment

Chapter 1: Someone's In The Apartment

_Leonard's POV_

Leonard Peabody, Harold Jenkins, or whatever you wanted to call him, wasn't many things. He wasn't ever the tallest, the best-looking, or the smartest. He wasn't special, as he had spent his youth dreaming about being. There seemed to be an overwhelming list of the things he was painfully _average _at. So what was he good at? Surely, everyone had at least one extraordinary quality to them?

_Patience, _he told himself as he placed his worn, marked copy of _Extra Ordinary _back into its hiding place on the shelf. _Patience, _he went back to his seat in the armchair.

Exactly how patient was he?

He had been waiting for fifteen years to exact his revenge on Reginald Hargreeves and his horrid Umbrella Academy. He had waited a tad too long in Reginald's case, as he discovered when Vanya had come home in tears. But nevertheless, his plan would still work. He wanted them to pay just as much as he did their old man.

His eyes darted back to the hiding place on the shelf. He had always been looking for a way to hurt the Umbrella Academy, but not until he had heard news of the tell-all novel written by one Vanya Hargreeves did he know how. Number Seven, who had been in the shadows her whole life. Number Seven, who 'didn't have powers.' _Likely story, _he'd scoffed. As if just one of them would be born ordinary. As if the great Reginald Hargreeves would keep around a child so average.

He'd read the book probably a thousand times over, detecting tiny holes in her story, in her memory. Chunks of time that were missing or didn't line up with the rest. He was grasping at straws, but it was his only chance at revenge.

And then he met her. And he played the nice guy, acted as if he hadn't studied every syllable of her memoir, and they immediately clicked because the both of them had never been truly _seen_ before. He left out details of his life, obviously, but for the most part they'd had the same childhood. His father abusive physically, hers emotionally. Being ordinary in a world with the extraordinary.

Maybe at one point he did love her. He remembered six weeks into their relationship when he felt himself falter. He had set out an ant trap, and she'd yelled at him. She said that they were hungry, and he watched as she threw the trap away, pretended not to see her blink back a tear at the ones that had already been killed, and put one of their old stale donuts on a plate. She put it in an old, dark closet that they never used, dubbing it the 'ant house.' Every once in a while she would throw them some more food. It had made him see her for the first time. Because he lied before - he didn't actually take much notice of her. Just of her family and her secrets and the power within. But he saw how pure and full of light she was. She was a beacon in the darkness. For a moment he allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe he could love her. That her yelling at him for killing ants could be a sweet, domestic life for him and maybe he wouldn't get revenge on this sweet girl's family.

He had discarded the thought just as quickly as it had come up. He had to do this. He had to keep searching for the darkness in her light that was so dark that even egotistical Reginald Hargreeves knew he had to hide it from the world. He would squash her light out like an ant if he had to.

Exactly what his plan was was unclear. Initially he thought that maybe he would kill her. But it became abundantly clear that that would be a bad idea. First, no one really cared about Vanya Hargreeves, especially her siblings. They would be a little sad at best before coming to kill him out of familial obligation. Second, if he was going to die doing this, then it had to be worth it.

So back to the drawing board he went. He devised many more plans, but none seemed fit. But as he'd stated earlier, he wasn't the smartest. He needed to play to his one strength, his patience, and wait for the opportunity to arise.

In the meantime, he'd been trying to awaken her mysterious powers. He tried being nice to her, encouraging her to try new things. He put her in situations where he thought survival might kick in and save her. He'd set up scenarios like her getting mugged, her nearly drowning, and many, many more. Each time a bit more intense than the last. She still had yet to show any signs of an ability.

The thought did cross his mind that she didn't have any, but he ignored it, continuing to try.

Eventually they moved in together, and shortly afterwards he gave up the nice guy spiel. He would get it out of her one way or another.

She had been completely cut off from her family, and he'd ensured that she believed that they wouldn't help even if she had told them. She had no one else.

The family reunion at first had seemed problematic for his plans with her. If she reconnected with her family, what was to stop them from coming after him? He didn't believe that they cared about her, not after her stunt with the book, but their hero complexes would likely compel them to help. It turned out that he needn't worry, though, as she had still yet to tell them anything. He knew that he'd succeeded in brainwashing her - she didn't think that they would care enough to help. Didn't think that she deserved it.

He peered out their second story window, a smirk gracing his features at the sight below. There was Vanya, taking her sweet time to get home. Hadn't he told her not to be late from rehearsal again?

* * *

_Vanya's POV_

She walked home from the theater with a slight drag in her step. The band had all gone out to get ice cream after, but she was forgotten as usual. She contemplated following along with them anyways - no one but Helen was cruel enough to turn her away if she happened to tag along. However she knew when she wasn't wanted, and left for her apartment.

She didn't want to get home. She knew Leonard had told her to stop being late, accentuating the demand with a sharp backhand, but her apartment had just become another house that didn't feel like a home anymore.

He had also told her that he wouldn't be home until later tonight. Her stomach dropped when she saw his truck in the parking lot. She glanced back up to her window, seeing the curtain closing. _Damn._

She quickly made her way up to their door and knocked. He let her in wordlessly, closing the door behind her and locking it.

"I thought you would be-" her voice trembled, question abruptly unfinished as he slapped her and drove a fist into her gut.

"I thought you would _listen. To. Me," _he seethed. "Apparently we were both wrong."

"I-I'm sorry." She would like to have been able to say that after a certain point she'd stopped crying when he did this, but every time she was reduced to a blubbering mess.

"You'd better be!" He roared, shoving her to the ground. "Ungrateful bitch! No one would ever love you but me, and this is how you repay me?! Disobedience? Lies?" Each question came with a sharp kick to the ribs, rendering her unable to answer. She just sobbed.

"You're worthless!" He screamed, stepping back to pace around. "No wonder your family never wanted you around. You're not smart. You're not strong. You're no good at anything. The only thing you do all day is violin and you're not even good at _that. _You wrote a book, I suppose but even that went horribly. You're not ordinary - you're _less than."_

His words hurt worse than any physical pain he could dish out. She continued bawling on the floor, but her own wails weren't enough to keep out the words.

"God, bitch. You would think that you would be able to handle this by now. _Weak. _I'm going to go get some drinks. When I get back, you'd better be cleaned up." His rage over, he stepped over her form, grabbing his coat off the rack and opening the door. "Have dinner ready."

She didn't answer, staying on the floor in the entryway until her sobs turned to pained whimpers.

She picked herself up slowly, feeling the brunt of her injuries - old and new. This was far from a rare occurrence.

She managed to make it to her bedroom, sitting on her bed and staring at the wall.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to leave him more than anything. She tried once when it all first started. It didn't go well.

She didn't have anything to run away to, or with. He had access to all her bank accounts. The money she had made from her book was spent on keeping his failing shop open and funding his drinking habits. He had everything in their relationship. The money, the apartment, the truck.

When she got back into touch with her family, she so desperately wanted to tell them. But they treated her coldly. She was held at an arm's length, which she knew she deserved. The book had been the final straw, and she hadn't stopped to consider the consequences. By the time she'd tried to get the book pulled, her publisher informed her that it was too late.

She had only wanted for once in her life to be able to tell _her _story.

She liked to imagine what each of her siblings would do if they were in her situation with Leonard. Luther would've been out the first time Leonard ever laid a hand on him, and if he had a problem with that then he wouldn't hesitate to punch him into oblivion.

Diego would be hurt - he always had more feelings than Luther did. But he would leave, and like Luther if he had a problem with that then he could have a very personal meeting with Diego's knife collection.

Allison would never find herself in a situation like that. She was too strong, too smart. And if by some chance she did, she would ruin him. He'd wind up dropping his pants on national television or something of the sort.

Klaus would be gone without a second thought. He already had the dead screaming at him all day - he wouldn't hesitate to be rid of once more voice. Besides, he always had Ben for support.

Five wouldn't stand for any of it. He would ensure that Leonard never hurt anyone ever again.

Ben was always the nicest. He probably wouldn't hurt Leonard (but if Klaus found out, he totally would), but would get himself out of the situation.

Any of her siblings could handle Leonard on their own. She couldn't. She was weak, just like he loved to remind her.

It was dark by the time she'd gotten dinner prepared, but he still wasn't back yet. The leftover fried chicken sat on the table, getting cold. She would have to microwave it again.

She staggered to the living room, almost screaming when she saw someone on their couch. The scream died in her throat as she realized it was only her brother.

"Five," she sighed in relief, then snapped, "stop breaking in!"

He shrugged. "You still haven't gotten locks on you windows."

"Would that really stop you?"

He smirked, then seemed to take in her state. She knew that she had dark circles under her eyes, but prayed he didn't notice how she was out of breath from just standing or noticing any of her injuries.

He stood up suddenly, stopping in front of her with all traces of humor (as funny as breaking into her apartment was) gone from his face. "What happened?" His hand reached towards her face, fingers hovering over a cut she'd forgotten about. One of Leonard's rings as he'd hit her.

She stepped back. "It's nothing, Five."

His hand dropped. "Then where'd you get it?"

She was unprepared for his questions. She had never bothered to think of any excuses because she'd never before been asked. "I… fell."

"Bullshit."

"_Language,"_ she corrected.

"I'm not actually thirteen, you know. How did you get that?"

"I fell."

"_Bullshit."_

"_Language."_

The two of them maintained a heavy stare, her pushing up as many walls as she could and him trying to break past them. He didn't need another reason to think she was weak.

Then, the sound of footsteps down the hallway. She knew them to be Leonard's. Fear flashed across her face. "Five, you have to go." He didn't like her family. It was weird, because it had seemed the opposite when they first met. He had seemed so interested in them, asking questions and referencing things she'd said about them in her book. Then he changed, and now he hated when she spent any amount of time with them.

Five only looked confused. "What? Not until you tell me how you got that."

She hated herself for it, but a tear rolled down her cheek in panic. She glanced back at the door. "Five, please go!"

"Vanya, what's wrong?!"

She was shaking. "_Please, _Five!"

He spared one more look at her before jumping away, and she slumped in relief. The door opened.

Leonard came in, sat at the table, and started eating. She quickly brushed away the tear track and calmed her adrenaline before joining him.

"Did I say you could sit?" He said through a mouthful of chicken.

She stood back up. "Sorry."

He made her stand there for a few minutes before finally gesturing to the seat in permission.

She sat.

She had only put one leg on her plate before he warned, "Careful - you'll get fat. The only thing you got is that you're skinny."

She only ate half the leg.

When she looked at her phone that night, she saw that she had two missed calls from Five. And a text.

_I'll pick you up tomorrow. I need you to pretend to be my mom._

She would've laughed if it didn't hurt to. Instead she smiled. It reminded her so much of old times - of the Five that wasn't too old for his body.


	2. Parental Guidance

Chapter 2: Parental Guidance

_Vanya's POV_

She'd told him that she was going out for groceries. It wasn't totally a lie; they were running low on food. What she neglected to tell him was that Five was picking her up, she would be doing the shopping after, and it would probably be hours before she was back.

While neither were easy with Leonard, she figured that it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, right?

So when Five pulled up, she quickly jumped in the van and they drove off.

"So…" she prompted.

"Yes?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes. He had to know what she meant. "Is there a reason I'm pretending to be your mother?"

"He has an eye."

She jumped, whipping around to see Klaus in the backseat. "What?"

Five smirked; he enjoyed their confusion. Still, he went to the trouble of enlightening her. "It has to do with the end of the world. I need to know who bought this eye, and I need an 'adult.'"

"If Klaus is here, they why did you need me?" No one needed her. Ever.

Five glanced at his brother in the rearview mirror. He was caressing Dolores creepily, and he resisted the urge to yell at him. "I need a _competent _adult."

"Hey!" Klaus objected.

"So what do I have to do?" Vanya ignored her more… eccentric brother.

"I'm going to do most of the talking - just sit there and act all parental." Five said, pulling up in front of a large building.

She shrugged. "That's a plan, I suppose."

They went in and she did her best to 'act all parental.' It wasn't looking like they were going to get whatever Five wanted, until Klaus piped in, "What about _my _consent?"

Twenty minutes later, Five with a swelling lip and Klaus covered in snow globe chemicals, they were sitting back in the van. The whole ordeal had gotten them nowhere, as Five kept muttering. "At least you won't keep hunting down this dead end, yeah?" she tried to comfort him.

Now he was looking at her, and she became uncomfortably aware of the cut still on her cheek, threatening to open any time she smiled too wide. That wasn't normally an issue for her, but her brothers' antics and the feeling of being _useful _for a change couldn't help but put a grin on her face. This was the most fun she'd had in a long time. But the look her brother was giving her sobered her giddiness right up. Five passed a twenty back to Klaus. "Go get us some snacks. Take your time."

Klaus didn't ask any questions, and it went without saying that the money wouldn't be spent _only _on snacks. He took the money and left for the nearby corner store.

"So…" he mimicked her earlier.

"Yes?" she acted oblivious.

"You fell?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure about that?"

She nodded.

He reached out and gingerly touched the offending mark on her skin. She tried not to wince."Did someone hit you?" He ground his jaw at the idea that someone might dare touch her in that way. If only he knew.

She didn't answer. God, she wanted to tell him so bad. The way he was reacting made her desperately want to believe that he would care. But no. He would think that she was weak. He would tell the others. They had just barely begun letting her back in; she couldn't risk it. And then there was the little fact that she had nowhere to go, nothing to take. She couldn't.

"Vanya, please." It was him begging this time. "I know something isn't right and I'll help."

She willed the tears back. Why did she have to cry so much? _Because she was weak. Ordinary; no, less than._ She said nothing still, just looking forward. No one had ever noticed her silence before.

He sighed, leaning back in his seat and copying her stare straight ahead. "Leonard. How did you guys meet?"

She gulped. "He- he was a fan of my book." She was grateful for the change of subject, but knew that it wasn't entirely innocent.

He smirked. "You just date all the fans of your book?"

She shook her head, looking down. "No. He recognized me on the street. Said he had questions. I had time, so we went out for coffee and hit it off."

"What was it about him? Why did you like him?"

"He seemed… too perfect."

He rolled his eyes. "Well that's warning sign number one."

She shook her head again. "Not perfect as in a dream guy sort of way. As in perfect for me. He understood."

"Understood?" he prodded.

"What it was like to not be special. Just ordinary."

"Ah," he nodded. He didn't need to prompt for her to continue.

"He heard me when it felt like no one else did. Not since you left, at least. Everyone else had shunned me. I didn't have anyone. But he was there, and he understood better than anyone, and he told me that I was something special."

"You _are,"_ he told her.

She gave him a little smile. It felt really, really nice to hear it whether she believed it or not. "Thanks, Five."

He furrowed his brow, looking at her in a way that made her feel like he was digging down deep into her soul. "That's why you wrote the book, huh? So people would hear you, listen to you?"

She nodded. "I didn't mean for it to-"

"I know. They'll come around. But at least some good came out of it."

"What do you mean?" She hoped that he didn't mean Leonard. He was as far from good as it got.

"Besides Dolores, do you know what kept me sane all those years in the apocalypse? That book. Seeing your face on the cover, reading the words you wrote. Knowing what was happening with you guys after I'd left. I thought it was hilarious, thinking of Dad's reaction to everything you put in the world with that book. I loved it."

With the look he was giving her, she had to believe that his words were genuine. "Thank you."

"Thank you," he echoed. "Now, are you going to tell me why you have a cut on your face?"

Her breath caught in her throat. He had just been so raw, so honest with her. She didn't want to lie to him again. But all of her doubts crept back up, and she stammered out, "I- I fell."

He sighed, not angrily, but he looked disappointed and that crushed her inside. "Of course you did."

Her moment of guilt was disrupted by Klaus, running across the street with an arm full of goods and the clerk hot on his heels. "Hey, bitches!" he ran past the van, straight into a car.

Five threw his hands up in disbelief. "I literally _gave _him money!"

He dropped her off at the grocery store, offering her a ride to her place after which she declined. Leonard didn't need to see that she was with him. Five didn't need any more reason to be suspicious.

The walk home was grueling. She hadn't thought about carrying bags of food several blocks with her body in such a state. She already knew more awaited her when she arrived home. Three hours, she'd been gone? He wouldn't be happy.


End file.
